Letter of the week: Is it raining yet?

As Mark Twain never said, “The coldest winter I ever spent was a winter in San Francisco.” He did spend some inclement seasons here – he would have gotten a kick out of this tepid winter. He also might or might not have said: “Everybody talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.”

What I know for a fact, however, is that almost everybody writes about it, at least to me, the curator of the Letters to the Editor column at The Chronicle.

The lack of rain has prompted many comments, some of which we have published recently. Last week, this was one of the most entertaining contributions:

Rain, rain, don’t go away

Dear Rain: You may recall decades ago, when I was a small child, the unfortunate and dismissive taunt I directed at you on occasion, proceeding something like: “Rain, rain, go away, come again some other day.”

I would like to begin by sincerely apologizing if I hurt your feelings or in any other way bruised your sensibilities by repeating this little chant. I would further like to entreat you to take advantage of the welcome return implied by the rhyme.

It is now another day, quite far removed from any play dates of my youth that may have been sullied by your presence. Your return now would be deeply appreciated by me and my fellow Californians. While we in this state are beholden to the stereotype of “sun-loving,” and indeed there is more than a small bit of truth to this generalization, your extended absence is, as the axiom states, making the heart grow fonder. Your expedited return would be greeted along the AmericanPacificCoast with the kindest of regards and deepest of gratitude. Please consider returning at as early a moment as you can. We eagerly await your arrival.

John R. Bejarano, San Mateo

In other news, a couple of tips from the Vox Populi Desk:

– Yes, please write. But we have to limit you to 200 words — space is at a premium. Best advice: Get right to the point. You want readers to engage in your thoughts right away.

– No poems. If you were a gifted poet, you’d be famous by now.

– Satire is risky. Usually it misfires, and people will take you literally, and that’s not what you want. Just be straightforward — tell us what you think.